Beloved of the Fog
by DJDag
Summary: A father goes looking for his runaway daughter in Silent Hill. The town is deserted, and the key to finding her is a strange girl with the blackest eyes.
1. Beloved of the Fog, part 1

Beloved of the Fog

Carl had kept the room dark ever since her disappearance. Things like his job and his friends, those he failed to keep. The pink clock on the wall read an hour past midnight. The second hand clicked incessantly. Stuffed animals filled a corner. Dolls filled another. A few clothes still lay scattered across the floor. He never touched them.

The sloshing of the liquid in the bottle joined the tick of the clock. Carl took a drink. His hands held the bottle at his waist. If he didn't see it then he wouldn't realize just how much of it he had drunk. Outside a single clap of thunder jolted the window panes.

"Storm's coming," Carl said. He chuckled. "Too bad my windows aren't rolled up." The sound of his voice was harsher than he expected. He took another drink to silence himself. Besides, his windows weren't up. He just liked to pretend he had other worries than about what had happened to his beloved Cameron. The minute hand on the clock continued its march. Rain came, and amid the sounds of water hitting the window pane Carl finished the rest of the bottle.

He tossed it to the floor. Dolls and stuffed animals hogged two corners, but the one by the door held only empty bottles of alcohol. The man looked away, down to the unicorn bed sheets. He ran his hand along them, remembering those times he had tucked her in and kissed her forehead. She always smiled when he did so. As his hand traced down the bed it stopped. A tiny circle of blood stained the sheet beneath his fingers.

The phone on the dresser rang. The sound jolted Carl up from the bed. He never wanted his girl to have a phone, but when her mother had died she coped by chatting for hours with her friends. That was why he got her the phone in her room. And it was that phone ringing now.

"Who the fuck calls at one o'clock in a thunderstorm?" he said, staggering toward it. He almost didn't answer. Couldn't you get struck by lightning or something? He'd heard of a friend who knew someone who had his hand blown off by a phone…no, it wasn't a phone, it was a shower. He shrugged. His head was far from clear. What the hell, he thought. He picked up the phone, more than ready to cuss out whoever happened to be on the other line.

"What the hell do you want?" he muttered into the receiver.

"Daddy?"

The man felt his heart lurch to a stop.

"Cameron?"

"Daddy, I'm sorry I ran away. Please, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, baby," Carl said, latching onto the bedpost to steady himself. "It's okay. Where are you? Tell me and I'll come get you."

"I didn't want to come here, but they made me, daddy, they made me come here."

"Where's here?"

Lightning struck outside, filling the line with static. Carl shouted his daughter's name a few times. No response. When the static abruptly ended no sound came from the other end.

"Cameron, are you there? Daddy's not going to be mad."

"I'm in Silent Hill," he heard his daughter say. "They made me come here."

"Who is they?"

The voice ended. There was no click, no standard sign of disconnect. Her voice just ended. He spoke her name again but was granted no response.

"Fuck!" he yelled, slamming the receiver down. The cradle fell to the floor, the cheap plastic cracking across the side. For a moment Carl stared at it, wondering if he had just imagined it. Cameron had vanished more seven months ago. Pictures of her face dotted telephone polls and supermarket doors for hundreds of miles in every direction. He'd even done a public plea on television. By the fifth month all the hope he had he drowned in alcohol. And now here he was, wasted and exhausted, hearing the phone call he'd been praying for.

Carl staggered through his home, flicking on light switches as he made his way to the kitchen. He pulled out a stack of maps from a drawer and unfolded them.

"Silent Hill, Silent Hill…I've heard it before but I've never…there."

His finger halted on a small dot less than sixty miles away. He scratched the rough hairs across his chin. The name of the town was circled in red crayon.

"I'm coming baby," the father said. "Baby, I'm coming."

..v..v..v..v..v..v

Try as he might, he couldn't keep the car in the right lane. Half-folded in the seat next to him was the map, there in case he took a wrong turn. Before he left Carl had changed clothes, drank two cups of coffee, and grabbed a stuffed animal from Cameron's room. It seemed stupid but he wanted to have something of hers to give her when they met. The stuffed animal was a pink bunny, one that had come with a bunch of Easter candy. It sat next to the map in the seat like a dutiful passenger.

The rain made what might have been a difficult trip a nightmarish one. The windshield wipers of his car were pathetic, just barely keeping a sliver of visible sight on the blurry glass.

"How can I stay within the lines if I can't even see them?" he said to the rabbit. He glanced at it, chuckling. "You wanna drive? You've had less to drink than I have."

Again the rabbit said nothing.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, guiding his car around a turn. "I doubt you could reach the pedals."

A bolt of lightning lit up the sky before him, so bright and powerful Carl had to squint his eyes against it. When it vanished his entire vision filled with a bright yellow sign with an arrow pointing left. Carl spun the wheel hard in the direction, his heart pounding as he felt the tires hydroplane underneath. As the car spun he glanced out the passenger window.

Outside, standing between him and the safety railing, was a little girl waving hello.

And then his car hit the barrier. Carl wore no seat belt. He flew across the passenger seat, past the pink bunny and into the window. The glass cracked but did not break. Just before that brief flash of pain that would send him into unconsciousness Carl could still see that girl's face, smiling at him with eyes that held no whites, only giant black orbs that leered into his soul as if he were naked before her. When unconsciousness came he was grateful.

..v..v..v..v..v..v

The first thing he felt was a terrible pain across his forehead. The first thing he thought was a hope that the pain was from the alcohol and not the window.

"…daddy?" he heard a voice say.

"Cameron?" he mumbled, fighting to open his eyes. He managed to open his left eyelid. White light blurred his vision. A blur, small and childlike, hovered over him.

"You look like daddy," the child said. Carl felt his heart sink. That voice did not belong to his little girl. It was older and softer than how his precious talked.

"What happened?" he asked, feeling stupid as he did.

"You crashed your car," the girl said.

"Thanks. I can figure that out."

He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked around. He was sitting in the passenger seat. Across from him was a young girl. She had opened the driver's side door so she could peer in. Carl started to speak but then saw her eyes. Both the iris and pupil were a deep black. They filled nearly the entire eye, so that only the very corners showed white.

"Holy shit," he said, instinctively crawling back a foot. The back of his head smacked against the shattered glass, adding pain to an already pain filled area.

"You shouldn't say stuff like that," the girl said, giggling at him. "Otherwise I might have to wash your mouth out with soap."

"Really? I'll remember that." Carl looked through the windshield of his car, confused by what he saw. All across his hood was what looked like a thin layer of snow. It appeared to be daylight, most likely early morning judging by the thick fog that blanketed everything.

"What's your name?" Carl asked her.

"Tess," the girl said. She stepped a foot back into the street and batted her eyelashes at him. "Do you think it is a pretty name?"

"Pretty?" He shifted from the passenger to the driver seat, wincing at the pain that spiked up his back. "Sure, it's a pretty name. Very pretty, for a pretty girl. Are your parents around?"

Tess shook her head.

"I'm all alone."

"Alone? Sure, course you're alone. You're old enough to be alone." The girl took a few more steps back as he swung his feet out of the car. "How old are you? Twelve? Thirteen?"

"Fourteen," she said. She kept her head low so that her long black hair formed a curtain about her face. She wore a simple green dress, like something set aside for church or holidays. Her hands kept picking at the hem. "I act twelve sometimes. Sometimes younger. What is your name?"

"Call me Carl," he said. With a deep breath he stepped out of the car. He staggered once but braced himself against the car. He inhaled again, surprised by just how many muscles in his body ached. He hadn't been going that fast when he hit the railing…had he?

"Do you want to come with me to the town, Carl?" Tess asked. The man shrugged.

"Sure. I'm trying to find my daughter. I think she's there. Hey, you wouldn't happen to have seen her, would you? She's eleven, about a foot shorter than you, red hair…"

Tess only shook her head.

"I've never been here before. I came because I was asked."

"By who?"

"My daddy."

"Where's your daddy?"

Tess giggled.

"I shouldn't tell you where. It's a secret."

Carl sighed.

"Fine. I don't have time for this sh…crap. Which way is town?"

"Follow me."

She extended her hand. Carl took it, his eyes glancing about uncomfortably as if he were looking for someone to appear and accuse him of impure intentions. The two walked down the road, the only sound that of Tess's humming.

..v..v..v..v..v..v

"This fog should clear up soon," Carl said after they had walked for some time.

"It won't."

"Sure it will. Once the sun gets high enough it'll dry all of it out."

Tess giggled at him.

"The sun is high enough. Look up." He did and sure enough there was the sun, a barely visible orb obscured by fog and cloud.

"I'll be damned," Carl said. At Tess's glare he chuckled. "Sorry. I work, well, worked with a bunch of not-too-proper guys at the factory."

"Okay, just don't be saying fuck, alright?"

The man glanced at her.

"Sure. Why not?"

"Because it makes me excited." She giggled. Carl let go of her hand. Thankfully she made no mention of him doing so. The girl resumed her humming. After what felt like an hour the trees along the side of the road vanished. Two orbs hovered in the fog before them.

"What is that?" he asked. Tess only shrugged her shoulders. As they neared the outline of a sign formed out of the fog. The two orbs were dim lights pointed down at the words of the sign.

Welcome to Silent Hill.

..v..v..v..v..v..v

"Looks like we're here," Carl said. "And here don't look too special." A few buildings formed through the fog. They looked gray and defeated. He saw what looked like a convenience store. The windows were broken. The door was boarded shut. Next to it was a video rental. Old posters blocked all sight inside. Every poster was faded and drained of color. The man walked up to one of the posters and ran his fingers across the front. Gray dust smeared his fingertips.

"The town died not too long ago," Tess said, staring down the straight. Carl jumped at her voice.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Tourists don't come. Bad stuff happened here."

Carl returned to Tess, rubbing his arms as if he was cold.

"How do you know that? I thought you said you hadn't been here before."

"I haven't." She blushed and looked to the ground. "But I just know. I know lots of things."

"Do you know where the police station is, then?" Carl said, obviously not amused by her words. Tess giggled.

"You don't want to go there."

"One of the officers might have seen her. You want to come with me or not?"

"But you don't want to go there."

"Yes, I do."

"But you don't."

"Why the hell do I not want to go there?" Carl said, his voice rising.

"Because the man with the knife will stop you."

Carl rolled his eyes.

"Fine. You stay here or go do whatever you want. I'm going to try and find the police station…or anyone, for Christ's sake."

Tess stayed where she was. The smile left her face.

"Bye-bye."

The loud cry of a tornado siren erupted from the other side of town. Carl leapt back a foot, stunned by the horrid break in the silence. The fog thickened, so much that the few feet between he and Tess was almost enough to wash her away in white.

"It's just broke," he shouted to her. "Don't worry."

"I'll find you when it's safe," Tess shouted back. She turned and ran.

"Tess!"

The siren wailed again and again. He took a few steps after her and then halted. Something felt wrong with the ground. He glanced down. The dirt was crumbling away, slipping through cracks in a large steel grating. All around the light grew dim as if the sun was being hidden by a lunar eclipse, yet still he could see. Red light poured up through the grating, deep and hot. For one brief moment Carl thought he saw lava, and then within that lava he saw a chasm leading further and further downward, so far down his head spun with dizziness and he felt his stomach churn. And then the hands lurched their fingers through the grating.

Carl screamed. He smashed the fingers with his boots, his mind unable to believe what it was he saw. Hundreds of fingers leered through the grate, clawing and grabbing air. Only once did see a pair of eyes, orange and bloodied. He ran. The sick sound of flesh beneath his heels made him close his eyes. Blindly he ran down the street. When shrieks and wails filled the town like a chorus he covered his ears. He made it down two blocks before a small shape entangled his legs. He fell to the ground, thankful that stone, not steel grating, was below him.

He opened his eyes to see what had tripped him. Lying just beyond his feet was something akin to a child. Its flesh was pale and blue. Its head was hairless. It turned to face him, moving on all fours like an animal. Carl screamed when he saw its face. The eyes and mouth were sown shut. Its ears were cut from its head, leaving only two tiny holes. He didn't know if it was male or female. Where should have been genitalia was instead a bloody smear of hanging strips of flesh. The thing cocked its head at him.

"What the fuck are you?" he asked as he struggled to his feet. In response it reached up with its hands and tore off the stitches across its lips. Bits of flesh came with them. With its mouth freed it leaned over and vomited. A stream of red splattered across the ground. Carl put a hand over his mouth and fled. Inside the vomit had been shards of broken glass.

Through the town he ran, his eyes wide. All around were buildings he recognized. Hair parlors. Convenience stores. Small, tidy homes. An antique shop. All of them were soaked with blood. It ran down their fronts as if bled from the roof. The center of the street was covered with the grating. The holes were larger than when the town had first changed so that entire arms were reaching through, waving madly in the air. Carl ran across the sidewalk, unwilling to think of what would happen to him if he stumbled into the sea of arms.

He stopped at a crosswalk. A streetlight hovered above the arms from wire. The glass where the red light had been was broken, and from within rained down a constant stream of blood. On the other side of the street several of the blue children crawled. Carl watched as one came too close to the road. An arm snapped around and grabbed its wrist. The child fell to the road. More and more hands latched on, tearing and pulling. Bones broke. Flesh tore. Piece by piece the child was pulled through the grating. The last to go was its spine.

Carl vomited, no longer able to hold it in. He braced on a building for support. As more and more bile traveled up his throat he tried not to think of how the blood had warmed at the touch of his fingers. He resumed running when the blood of the building pulsated as if from a giant, beating heart. On the other side of the street the blue children followed.

"This isn't happening," Carl gasped as more and more children took up chase. "This isn't real. This can't be real." He turned a corner to see five more of the blue things blocking his way. The crawled toward him, their heads swaying left and right.

"Stay back," he said. He searched his jeans for a weapon of any kind. Nothing. Carl turned to run, but blocking his way was more than twenty of the things, crawling together in a silent swarm. He spun again and again, as if each turn he might see something different. The only way out was onto the street with the grasping arms. The image of the massacred child kept him where he stood.

A blue hand reached up and brushed his arm. Its touch was warm and dry. Carl watched, his mouth open and his hands shaking, as that child suddenly staggered back. Sickening heaving sounds came from its chest. Its head bobbed up and down. Its eyes bulged. At that terrible moment Carl realized what was happening. The child was going to vomit up the glass but its mouth was still sown shut. The child started tearing at its mouth but the stitches held. The scrawny chest heaved one final time. Blood and glass erupted from the things eyes and nostrils. It collapsed, its back legs twitching.

Several more children brushed his arms and legs. They too pulled back, tearing at their stitches and vomiting blood and glass.

"Stop it," Carl said, just above a whisper. The shrieks from the grates drowned him out. "Stop it, you're killing yourselves!" Despite this the children came, crawling over the dead bodies of their kin to reach up and grasp at his arms and legs. Carl pushed them away, knowing his slightest touch was poison. From around both street corners the children came, hundreds of them. Mounds of bodies formed barriers on both sides. The children that tried climbing around stumbled and fell into the road where the eager arms awaited. Carl leaned back against the wall, clutching his hands over his ears. All he could hear was the shrieks and wails and the vomiting and the breaking of bones.

At once it stopped. The children halted, glancing around as if they could still see through their sown eyelids. A single noise sent them crawling away, over the bodies of their brethren and even into the street if they found their path blocked. Carl heard the sound as well. It was the sound of metal scraping against metal. It came from around the corner. Carl climbed over the mound of bodies the other way, ignoring the horrible warmth of their skin. When he reached the top he glanced back. From around the corner he saw a sharp black piece of metal just above the mound. The scraping metal sound stopped.

He tumbled down the other side and ran when a blade longer than his entire body lifted up above the mound. The sound of it tearing down through the hundreds of bodies chilled his heart. He ran down the sidewalk, relieved he saw none of the blue children lurking about. Each building he passed he pondered entering. Perhaps he could hide, he wondered. The darkness within each kept him going. Out in the streets he could see. Inside he would be blind.

He found a walkway of steel across the street. On either side hands reached and groped. The shrieks called out for him. Carl walked in the very center, stepping foot before foot so that he stayed just out of reach of the fingers. When he reached the other side he collapsed to one knee. He had never been in great shape. The days of drinking and moping certainly hadn't helped. He gasped for air, feeling the sweat drip off him to the ground. From around the corner he heard the scraping of metal. Part of him wanted to flee but his curiosity, and his exhaustion, won. He had to see who was chasing him. He didn't know why, but he had to know.

The thing came around the corner, its weapon trailing behind. It looked like a giant, muscular man in an enormously grotesque mask. A butcher apron made of flesh covered his waist. Atop his head was what appeared to be a pyramid made of black steel. The weapon was an enormous sword, almost like an oversized butcher knife. Everything, from the blade to his apron to his mask, was covered with blood. The thing approached the walkway Carl had crossed. Carl took a few steps back, his chest growing light at the very sight of this monstrosity. It took a step into the road, then another. Hands snapped around and latched onto its ankles. The thing continued, the arms snapping and breaking. More and more latched on, and more and more were torn from unseen sockets. Halfway across the street it paused and hefted the enormous blade. With one arm it swung, severing all the arms to the things right. Another swing and the other side became nothing but a shower of blood and bone.

"What do you want with me," Carl asked, tensing his body to run. The butcher took a step. Its helmet tilted to one side. The sword lifted high above his head. And then the thing hurled it across the street. The man dove to one side. The blade buried itself to the hilt in the brick building behind Carl. If the thing was upset at missing it showed no sign, only lumbering forward with the same agonizing gait.

Carl ran. The thing with the pyramid head followed.

..v..v..v..v..v..v

Every building, every street, the same thing. Grates and fingers. Blood and death. Carl slumped to the ground, unable to run anymore.

"Bad stuff happened here," he chuckled, feeling much of his sanity slipping. "No shit, Tess. No shit."

No matter how fast he ran the scraping sound of the enormous blade followed. Even as he sat there he could hear it approaching. But he could run no more. Not just physically. He could not stand the sights he saw any longer. He closed his eyes and buried his face into his legs. Perhaps after a moment he would resume. If he was still alive.

The tornado siren blared in the distance. Carl glanced up, immediately feeling a change. The fog was returning, seeping up from the ground. All around the blood fell from the walls. Dirt poured upward from the bowels of the lava canyons, burying the grate and its holes. As the blood pooled upon the ground it gradually dissolved like a puddle beneath a hot summer sun. The sound of metal scraping against metal halted.

And then the town was the same as it had been when they first entered.

"Cameron," the father whispered. His girl was here somewhere, suffering in the same hellish world. "Cameron, you poor girl."

He got to his feet and looked around. Cameron had not said where she was at on the phone. Considering how there was not a soul around to ask, Carl felt an overwhelming desire to search for his girl but total helplessness at where to start.

"The man with the knife didn't want me to go to the police station," Carl said, remembering what Tess had told him. "Then that's where I'm going."

He walked through the fog, keeping to the sidewalk even though the streets were safe again. A few minutes later he heard a girl shout his name.

"You lived," Tess said, smiling at him from across the street. "I didn't think you would live."

Carl ran across the street to her and grabbed her wrist.

"How did you know about the man with the knife?" he asked.

"Are you going to hurt me?" she asked. She didn't seem afraid. In fact, she looked very much the opposite.

"No. Of course not. Just tell me how you knew of him?"

She shook her head.

"That's a secret. I won't tell you a secret until you tell me a secret."

"I don't have any…goddammit. Fine. You're coming with me. We're going to find the police station."

This time the girl made no argument, only accepting his grip about her arm with the tiniest of smiles.

..v..v..v..v..v..v

"Small towns always have a square somewhere," Carl said, scanning down each intersection they met. "Some place they can put a tiny park and a gazebo and some benches for old people. That's where the police station will be at."

"What is at the police station?" Tess asked.

"People. Cameron. Hell, I don't know. But that is where we're going."

"You sound like my daddy."

"Fascinating."

He picked up his pace, tugging her along.

..v..v..v..v..v..v

Half an hour later he found the town square, just as he had predicted. The trees were barren, though, and the grass was long dead. The benches were cracked in the middle. Where there had once been a gazebo was a giant pile of ash. A tiny justice building stood next to the park. Tess pointed but Carl shook his head.

"That's just the courtroom. The police station should be nearby." They passed a tax center, another movie place, and a thrift store. Tess paused at the thrift store and looked in.

"What is your girl's name again?" she asked, staring at a tiny mannequin in a pink skirt and white top.

"Cameron."

"Why did Cameron come here?" Tess asked, resisting the man's tug to continue.

"She didn't come here. She said she was taken here."

"By who?"

"I don't know. They."

"How did they get her?"

Carl pulled her from the window so she would look him in the eye. His anger helped him not shiver when those black orbs locked onto his face.

"No more questions, got it?"

She giggled. Strange enough, the sound scared him just as much as the scraping steel sound the butcher thing's knife had made.

"You do have a secret. She ran away, didn't she? Ran away from you, and it is your fault she ran."

Carl shoved the girl against the windows of the store.

"I said enough!"

"Are you going to rape me?" she asked. Again she giggled, and her eyes lit up with life. "You want to. We're all alone. No one will see you do it. And I won't tell."

"You're sick," he said.

"So are you."

Carl let her go and crossed the dead park. He sighed when he saw a tiny police station on the other side of the square. Its windows were shattered. Tess followed him at a distance as he tried the door. It was locked so he climbed in through the windows. Everything inside was a mess. Filing cabinets had their contents emptied to the floor. Desks were broken. Chairs were overturned. He searched every drawer he found. Inside one was a flashlight. He flicked off and on. The batteries were dead. Inside a drawer below it he found a fresh pair and popped them in. The light clicked on. The light was yellow and dim, but it was better than nothing.

Inside an upside down desk he found a small handgun. Carl frowned at all the dust covering it. He cleaned it with his shirt and popped out the clip. Empty.

"Let's see, ammo, ammo…"

Carl glanced back to see Tess staring at him from the window.

"What do you think was here I wasn't supposed to find?" he asked.

"You already have it."

He glanced down at the gun.

"Sorry, precious, but I like guns. More importantly I like loaded guns, so give me a minute."

He went further inside. There he found a quaint prison, consisting of only three jail cells. Storage cabinets lay overturned on the other side of the wall. Carl scanned their contents. He grinned when he found several clips, each holding twenty shots.

"If I need more than sixty shots I'm dead anyway," he muttered. He loaded a clip and thumbed on the safety. As he put the pistol into his pocket a picture caught his eye. It was a tiny Polaroid. He picked it up. In faded color it showed a muddy river, its banks swelled from a recent storm. Carl tore the photo in half. He left the police station, his heart racing.

"Alright, we need a plan, Tess," he said while exiting through the window. "I just want to find my girl and get out of here. You can…why are you here again?"

The girl looked down shyly.

"I told you, remember? I was called here. I think the town wants me."

"Bullshit. Towns aren't alive and they certainly don't make phone calls."

"Are you sure?" she asked, suddenly livid. "Isn't that what happened to you?"

"That was Cameron, not a town."

"But are you sure?"

Of course he was, but when he went to say it he found he couldn't. After what he had seen, did he honestly know anything?

"Fine. If the town did call you, what does it want with you?"

She shrugged.

"I don't know. I think it likes me."

Carl sighed and shook his head.

"That's wonderful. Come on, I'm starving. Let's see if we can find something to eat before that damn siren goes off again."

..v..v..v..v..v..v

The two scoured a small convenience store for something edible. Much looked aged and rotten. Carl found a can opener in the manager's office and used it to open cans of corn, beans, and mixed fruit. They sat in the middle of the canned food aisle, enjoying their meal. The two slurped their food as if they were drinking it.

"Why did your daughter run away," Tess asked. She kept her eyes to the floor. Carl sighed and sipped the sugary syrup from one of the fruit cocktail cans.

"It was just one of those things. She's only eleven. She packed up a few things of clothes and her favorite teddy bear and ran into the woods. After her mom died I babied her for awhile, spoiled her probably. She didn't like it when I started becoming strict again."

"Daddy never spoiled me," she said. She dipped her finger into a jar of apple sauce and sucked on it. "Daddy never did much of anything. He just fucked me."

Carl winced at her words.

"Please, don't say stuff like that."

"What? He did."

"Then just don't say it that way, it's just…it's not right."

"Fine." The girl took another taste of apple sauce. "Daddy just humped me good every night. Mommy died giving birth to me. She died because of me. I guess that meant I had to replace her as best I could, right?"

Carl shifted, much of his appetite gone.

"Where is your father?"

"It's a secret, remember?"

"You can tell me. I won't tell a soul. There's not even a soul here to tell."

Tess giggled.

"Promise you won't tell?"

Carl held a can of corn to his breast.

"I swear it."

Tess slid across the floor and cuddled up next to him. She sat up on her heels and whispered the words into his ear.

"I killed him."

Carl did his best to show no reaction. The girl sat back down and giggled.

"Why?" he asked.

"You can't fuck your daughter and expect to get away with it," she said. "Ever since I was nine he had been sneaking into my room. So I practiced. I prepared. I got him drunk one night, made him think I even wanted it. Aren't I sneaky?" She giggled again. Carl's blood turned to ice. "Afterwards he passed out in a kitchen chair. I took some rope and tied his arms and legs to the chair. I had been practicing knots so I tied him good. And do you want to know what I did then?"

He didn't but his head nodded anyway.

"I shoved shards of broken glass down his throat. His coughing woke him up, but it was too late. But I couldn't let him cough all of it up, oh no, that wouldn't have right. Guess what I did next?" She smiled at him, inviting.

"You sowed his mouth shut," he whispered.

"You're so smart," she giggled. "Both his eyes and his mouth. It wouldn't kill him immediately, but he kept choking on it. And then I cut off his dick and burned it in the fire. Daddy's still there. Silent Hill called to me not much after."

Carl stood, tossing his can of beans to the floor.

"I've got to find Cameron and get out of this town."

"Where will you look?" the girl asked.

"I don't know. I don't know where she'd hide. The last time she ran away she…"

He paused. Tess was staring at him, her black eyes narrowing.

"She's run away before?"

He shook his head.

"No. Not run away. We just lost her a bit that time, that's all. She was hiding in a movie theatre. It's all just a game to her; at least, it was before this."

"I saw a movie theatre earlier," Tess said, her voice soft. "When we were separated. Do you want me to take you there?"

Carl looked down at the girl and bit his lower lip.

"Yeah. Sure. Let's go.

..v..v..v..v..v..v

Author: Should have the second half posted sometime next week. Hope all of you who made it this far enjoyed what you read. And please post any and all comments. Heck, I'll even take flames. This is my first Fanfic...ever...so I'm anxious to see what I get. Oh yeah, and I don't own Silent Hill or anything like that. So no suing.

David.


	2. Beloved of the Fog, part 2

Tess led them through the foggy streets, somehow remembering the turns. Carl kept holstering and unholstering his gun. He hadn't fired a shot with it yet so he didn't trust it. Normally he would have found a far off target and pegged it, but not now. He feared what the sound of a gunshot in open air might do to the town.

The theatre was on the opposite side of the town. It was a tiny multiplex, appearing to have only three screens. Not far from it Carl could see a Walmart. He stared at it for a bit, for one brief moment glad he was not going inside. All those doors chained shut made the building seem dangerous. Tess walked to the front door and stopped. She stared through the window.

"What is it?" he asked.

"One of your secrets is inside," she whispered.

"What are you talking about?"

"You'll see," she said. She reached out and pulled open the door, holding it for the man. "After you. You'll find Cameron inside, but not as you think."

Carl looked at her, his mind debating. He wanted to force her to tell him how she knew this. Another part was too scared to know. He went inside to look for his daughter.

v..v..v..v..v..v...

The velvet ropes had faded to a dull crimson. The single cash register was open and empty of money. Carl looked around, seeing life-size caricatures of Yoda and Luke and Austin Powers. All had their eyes burned out. The glass before the candy machine was broken. He glanced inside the popcorn machine. Hundreds of red seeds filled the powerless contraption. He shuddered, not wanting to know what type of popcorn might come from it.

The first theatre he checked was dark and silent. He called out his daughter's name. None answered back. When he exited Tess approached from the lobby, her arms crossed. She kept staring at Carl with a dull expression in her eyes.

"She's in the third room," the girl whispered. Carl glared at her. He marched into the middle room.

"Cameron?" he shouted. "Cameron, are you here sweetie?"  
Again his voice met no response. He left and shook his head.

"We might still have time to leave," Tess said. Her arms were wrapped around her chest as if she was cold. "I don't want to go in there, but I'll follow you if you do."

"I have to find her."

He went inside. Tess followed.

v..v..v..v..v..v...

The room was dark, just like the other two. Carl trudged down the aisle, willing to search further because of Tess's apprehension. As he walked the whirring sound of the projector broke the silence. Light burst onto the screen, dull and yellow. Carl and Tess froze as a silent movie began. Tears ran down Carl's face as the first image was of his little girl, smiling and waving as if she was in a home movie.

"She is a beautiful girl," Tess whispered.

"Where are you, baby?" Carl said to the screen.

The scene changed. He saw his house and the forest behind it. The house erupted into flame, yet it did not burn, only melt like wax. The trees withered and died. And then came the flood. A mighty river covered the house and flame. Only the trees withstood its flow. And from within the river hundreds of arms reached out, caked with mud. They all stretched their fingers to the screen, as if hoping some watcher might aid them. As one they slipped underneath the water. The whole time Carl stood there, his arms shaking.

"Why do they show a flood?" Tess asked.

"I'm afraid of rivers," Carl said. "Potamophobia is what it's called. This town, this fucking town, just wants to torture me. Cameron isn't in here is she?"

Tess looked once more to the screen.

"No. I think she is."

The tornado siren pierced through the thick walls of the theatre. Carl drew his gun, his eyes lingering on the fading flood. All around the curtains turned to wax and dripped to the ground. The screen melted, pouring muddy water across the floor. The man screamed and shoved his back to the far wall. Painful light filled the room as door of the emergency exit came off its hinges and fell. He glanced back at the other door into the theatre, looking for some way to bar it. It had no handle and no lock.

"Something's coming," Tess said, staring at the open door. Carl turned around, both hands clutching the hilt of his gun. A human shape came crawling through and onto the platform before the screen. It crawled on its knees, having had its feet amputated at the ankles. Barbed wire wrapped around its neck in multiple loops before trailing down and embedding itself into the flesh around the knees. Every time the thing stretched its arms forward to walk the barbed wire around its knees forced the creature to do a bowing motion. It looked directly at the two with sunken eyes loosely hidden behind dirty hair. Inside its mouth was a black ball gag.

"Who did that to it?" Carl whispered.

Tess looked at him and then the creature.

"I think it's always been like this. It was made this way."

The creature crawled toward them. Carl kept his gun trained on its head, hating the subtle shaking of his hands. He'd always been a sure shot when hunting.

"Don't remember deer looking this fucked up before, though," Carl muttered. He chuckled.

"Don't kill it," Tess said as he prepared to fire.

"What? Hun, I don't think that thing wants to give us a hug."

The thing grew closer, making the same bowing gesture as it came. It was almost as if the thing were worshiping them.

"Please. I don't want you to kill it."

Carl wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead. The creature was close enough to smell now. It was powerful, a scent he recognized clearly from those many nights spent with his wife. It was the stench of dried semen. He put a bullet between its eyes. Tess screamed and hit him. He hit her back.

Tess cowered in the corner, holding a hand to her face. Her lip was bleeding. He had hit her with the butt of the gun. Blood poured from the bowing creature, which lay dead in the middle of the aisle. Carl stared at the thing, breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry, but you can't hit me, girl. Don't hit me."

"You hit your daughter, didn't you? That's why she ran."

Carl glared at her.

"I never, ever laid a finger on her. Your father may have been a twisted fuck but I'm not. And you're fourteen. You're old enough to know better."

Tess stood, licking the blood from her lips.

"Hit me again."

"What? No."

"I said hit me."

She approached, a strange gleam entering her eye. Her fear of him had vanished just as quickly as he had hit her.

"Are you crazy? I didn't want to hit you the first time, it just, you know…"

She lewdly pushed her body against his.

"But doesn't the kill excite you? The town, the fear, you're alive aren't you?"

"Get away from me," he said, pushing her.

"You're not married."

"And you're not even sixteen."

"Since when has that stopped you before?"

He backhanded her across the mouth. She looked at him, not in shock but in pleasure.

"I was never willing with daddy, but I'll be willing with you. You can be my master. Hit me again."

Another bower came crawling through the emergency exit. Tess reached out and pushed her hand against Carl's crotch. He grabbed her wrist with his free hand, his gun trained on the second creature.

"Stop it," he whispered. "You belong here. You're sick. I just want my daughter."

A giant blade tore through the second bower's back. The thing writhed in silence, the ball gag keeping all but the most desperate of screams in. The blade turned, gore covered the ground, and then the butcher with the pyramid head entered the building. Carl let go of Tess's wrist and aimed at the butcher's chest.

"Not this time, bud," he said. "Everything else dies around here, so you can too."

Tess glanced at the thing and smiled. She ran down the aisle, away from Carl and toward the butcher.

"Tess!" Carl screamed. "Tess, get back here, he'll kill you!"

The butcher yanked free his blade and hoisted it onto his shoulder. It made no further movements as Tess flew across the platform and wrapped her arms around his waist. Carl felt his gut sink at the sight. The butcher moved its free arm, at first as if he was to hug the girl. Instead a giant hand grabbed the girl's long hair and tilted her head back. Tess gasped. A violent jerk spun her around and down to her hands and knees. The giant weapon fell to the ground with a thud. Metal scraped against metal as the butcher turned the edge around and lifted it with one hand. Tess's breath was quick and heavy as the bloody edge pressed itself against her exposed throat. When the butcher yanked harder on her hair and ran the blade up and down across her neck without drawing blood Carl could not believe what it was he heard. The girl was moaning.

"Enough of this," he muttered. "That's just enough."

He fired into the arm that clutched Tess's hair. The bullet hit, punching a small wound in the arm. No blood came. The wound sealed back up as Carl watched in horror. He fired again. The bullet hit the strange helmet and ricocheted into the wall. A third shot to its leg buried into flesh and remained there. Still no blood.

The butcher released Tess. She sat on her knees and turned, whimpering. The thing ignored her. It dragged its blade across the ground behind it as it strode up the aisle. Carl plugged four more shots into the butcher's chest. The impact didn't even slow it. Just before he ran Carl saw Tess stand and laugh at him.

"He told me your secret," she said. "I know where your girl is."

"Where is she?" he shouted.

"I told you my secret, but you didn't tell me yours."

He swore and fled out the door, the sound of the blade dragging across the ground not far behind.

v..v..v..v..v..v...

The lobby was full of the bowing creatures. They turned toward him at his entrance. Some cowered, while others crawled toward him, moaning into their gags. Carl shot the closest two and then ran to the door. He let out a cry when he slammed against it. The door wouldn't budge. Through the glass he could see chains and a padlock wrapped around the outer handles. Someone, or something, had locked him in.

He spun, firing. Three more of the bowing creatures fell. Then the butcher entered the lobby.

"Aw hell no," Carl muttered.

He emptied his clip into the thing's chest. The bullets gave him little pause. Carl reloaded as the butcher cut off the head of a nearby creature. Seeing nowhere to go he kicked one of the bowers away from him and ran into the bathroom. There were three stalls inside. He fired two shots into a window above the sink, grimacing at the noise in the confined space. As he shoved away pieces of glass he heard movement from the stalls. Blue children appeared from the stalls, already tearing at their sown lips. One succeeded, and with its mouth free it vomited. Carl expected blood but instead saw muddy brown water. When finished the child faced him and spoke.

"Daddy?"

He put a bullet in its head, tossed his gun through the window, and then climbed through.

v..v..v..v..v..v...

The sky was a furious red. Directly in front of him was the Walmart. Hundreds of flying shapes circled above it. Carl grabbed his gun from the ground and glanced about. He had to find somewhere to hide until the siren sounded once more. He saw a large storage shed behind the theatre. He took a step toward it.

The butcher shoved its enormous blade through the window and swung. The tip sliced through the back tendons of Carl's right ankle, snapping his Achilles heel. Carl screamed, collapsing to the ground. He forced himself to roll amid the pain, desperate to stay out of reach of the giant weapon. He clutched his leg with both hands, unaware he had dropped his gun. The pain was unbearable. He'd broken limbs before, even snapped his collarbone in half once, but nothing compared to this.

"Get up," he muttered. "You gotta get up."

Hands wrapped around his body, pulling him upward. With his good leg Carl pushed, keeping all weight from his injured leg. He looked about groggily, seeing Tess holding him by his arms.

"Come on, this way," she said. He leaned gently upon her as the two hobbled their way to the storage shed. It was unlocked. Tess opened the door and helped Carl sit down inside. Then she entered, slamming the door shut behind her. For a moment all was dark. He bit down on his hand, trying to hold in his sobs. The sound of metal scraping against metal remained ever prominent.

Carl was leaning against something, what he did not know. He pushed against it, checking its height. Not too bad. He sat down upon it, doing his best to keep quiet. He pulled out the flashlight from his pocket.

"I'm turning on a light," he whispered. Tess gave no reply. He placed his hand over the end and then flicked the switch. Dull yellow light lit up the ceiling, muffled by his fingers. It was enough to see. Boxes of cups filled one side. Stack in another corner were nacho plates and rags. Bathroom cleaner, mops, and twelve packs of toilet paper occupied another. Carl sat upon a sealed cardboard box. The side simply red Cinaplex. Tess sat by the door, her black eyes staring at him in the dark.

"Tell me what your secret is," she whispered, unafraid of the scraping metal sound from outside.

"Please, I'm in too much pain," he whispered. "Get me some of those paper towels, will you?" Tess gave him a roll. He wrapped the brown paper around his bleeding ankle. It grew soggy and weak almost immediately.

"Tell me," she said again. "Tell me or I open the door and scream."

"Why would you do that?" he asked. "Why?"

"I want to know," she said. "I'll do it. You know I will."

Carl leaned back against the wall of the shed, gasping in air. Much of his vision was tiny blue dots swirling before him.

"Fine. Sometimes I…I didn't take Kelly's death too well. Kelly was my wife. I drank a lot, not as much as I do now, but I did. And that made me do stuff I don't want to say."

"Say it," Tess said.

"Please," Carl begged. "Please. I can't."

"Say it. You fucked her, didn't you?"

"I didn't fuck her!"

For a brief moment the scraping sound outside halted. The two stared at one another. A minute later it resumed.

"I touched her," Carl said, burying his face into his head. "I only touched her."

"She ran away from you because you couldn't keep your hands off your own daughter. That's how she ended up here, isn't it?"

He nodded.

"I quit my job just two days before, stayed home drinking. I shouldn't have, you know, shouldn't have kept drinking but I didn't have anything else. I must have been bad. I don't even remember much of that day. Poor Cameron, she probably got scared and ran off. By the time I knew she was gone it was too late. I haven't seen her since."

The scraping sound grew more and more distant. The two relaxed, apparently safe inside the cramped building.

"I guess you're not as bad as daddy," Tess said, picking at her dress.

"Of course I am," he whispered. "There's no ranks when it comes to what I did. No this is worse or that isn't. I betrayed her trust. Ever since she ran away I've prayed for another chance to show her it won't happen again. And then I get a call from her, telling me to come to this god-forsaken town."

They fell silent for a bit. The minutes passed, quiet and painful. Carl kept changing the towels around his ankle, praying for the pain and bleeding to finally stop.

"What about the flood?" Tess asked, breaking the silence.

"I told you, I have a phobia of rivers."

"You're lying."

"Why would I lie about that but not about what I did to my little girl?"

This indeed seem to puzzle her. She began twisting her lower lip with her fingers.

"Why would you lie?" she asked. "Why would you lie about the river?"

Carl sighed.

"Please, just let me be for awhile."

Ten minutes later Tess came to her conclusion.

"You're not aware you're lying," she said.

"What?"

The girl stood, hovering over him. Her black eyes shimmered in the dim light.

"You don't know you're lying," she said. "But I know who will. Cameron will."

"What are you doing?"

The girl paused, her hand against the door to the shed. She giggled.

"I'm going to take you to Cameron. I know where they're keeping her."

Carl tried to sit up. A wave of dizziness slammed his head. He shoved more paper towels against his ankle, wondering just how much blood he had lost. When he tried to speak his words came out slurred.

"I need to rest a moment," he murmured. "Just, give me a sec to rest."

The flashlight slipped from his hands and fell. Tess reached down and grabbed it. She flicked it off with her thumb. In the darkness Carl leaned against the wall and succumbed to weakness and sleep.

"I'll watch over you," he heard the girl say. "Until I know for sure, I'll watch over you."

v..v..v..v..v..v...

Carl awoke to the sound of the tornado alarm. He opened his eyes to see total darkness.

"Does that mean its safe or…?" he asked.

"You haven't been out long," Tess said. "And yes, it is now safe for you."

Light streamed in. The girl pulled the door fully open. Pale light and fog filled the cramped shed. Carl glanced down at his leg. His sock was a mash of paper towels and blood. He placed a tiny bit of weight on the foot. Fire screamed its way through his nerves, eliciting a muffled cry from his throat.

"Don't walk on it," Tess said, watching him. "I will help you walk if you need me to."

"Are you sure you can?" he asked. The girl nodded.

"I'm stronger than I look. Most people are." She reached out her hand. Carl took it. Gently she wrapped his arm about her shoulders and lifted him from his perch atop the cardboard box. He put all his weight on his left leg. His right he kept hovering an inch above the ground. Together the two hobbled out of the shed. On the way down Carl brushed his foot against the ground. The pain sent him to the ground, Tess with him. The girl made not a sound. Instead she stood up, grabbed his arm, and pulled him from the ground.

"We don't have time," she said once his arm was around her again. "We must find her before the town changes again."

"Sure," the man muttered. "So where are we going?"

The girl pointed to the Walmart.

"Inside."

"God I hope you're joking."

"I'm not God, and I'm not joking. Come on."

Like some three-legged creature they crossed the parking lot, to where the chained and shut store loomed like a sleeping thing.

v..v..v..v..v..v...

Tess let the man sit on a chair bench while she examined the sliding glass doors. She fiddled with the chains across the front. They were placed in a hurry, and whoever had done so had left them far too loose. Tess stretched them around the handle. The metal fell to the ground, clanging atop the concrete. She tried to pull open the doors but they refused to budge.

"There's a second lock," Carl said, watching her. "On the inside."

Tess hit the glass with her fists. It remained firm. She looked at Carl.

"Where's your gun?"

"I think I dropped it when that…thing…cut my ankle."

"I'll be right back."

The girl ran across the empty parking lot towards the tiny movie theatre. She returned a minute later, the gun cradled in her hand. Without a word she braced herself in front of the door, aimed, and fired three times. Hundreds of veins filled the door, spreading out from the holes of the bullets. Tess kicked. The glass bowed inward, stretching more like rubber than glass. She put two more bullets into the door and kicked again. Half of the door came crashing in, splaying shards across the floor. Tess ducked inside, turned, and scanned for the lock.

"Check near the top," Carl said. Tess found a metal jam and flicked it the other way. She pulled the doors open with her fingers and then smiled at the man.

"On your feet, lazy man. Your daughter is waiting."

Carl got to his feet on his own. He took a single step, and the pain was blatant across his face. He waited for Tess and then heaved his weight upon her.

"How do you know she's in here," he asked as they entered the store.

"The man told me," Tess said.

"What man?"

"The man with the pyramid head."

v..v..v..v..v..v...

They cut right immediately, past the soaps and deodorants. When they reached stacks of fake flowers and lawn ornaments they turned left.

"Where are we going?" Carl asked.

"Where do you think your little girl would be at?" she asked. The man thought a moment, trying to remember the trips he took with Cameron to Walmart.

"Stuffed animals. Barbie dolls. She always wanted to go to look at stuff like that whenever we went."

"See, you don't need me."

But he did. Every step he grimaced and forced his weight upon her until his good leg hit the ground again. He kept expecting her to buckle under his weight, but she was always firm. They passed the fake jewelry. Ahead he saw some pink My Pony toys. They were there.

"Cameron?" he said. He let go of Tess's arm and hobbled on one foot into the aisle. He grasped the metal shelving and stared. The whole aisle was pink. Pink dolls, pink clothes, pink animals. Sitting in the middle of the aisle, with hundreds of open Barbie dolls talking, working, and playing was his little girl. She looked up at him and tilted her head.

"Daddy?" she asked.

"Cameron," he said. "Oh sweet baby, come here."

She ran to him and latched her arms about his waist. Carl used his free hand to hug her. He tried to speak but a lump in his throat kept his words.

"I missed you daddy," Cameron said.

"Missed you too," he managed to say.

"Hello, Cameron," Tess said from behind them. Carl shifted so he could look at her.

"Thank you," he said. Tess ignored him, instead speaking to the child while keeping her hands behind her back.

"Cameron, I have a question I want to ask you."

The girl pulled her face away from her father's stomach, hair sticking to her tears.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Tess," the girl said, smiling. "Come over here, I want to ask you something."

"Stay here," Carl said, his wrapping tighter about her. "Just stay here for now."

Tess pulled out his gun from behind her, gesturing casually toward him.

"I need to talk to her," she said. A string of giggles escaped her lips. "I won't hurt her. Not at all. But you're entirely different. Now let her go."

"Daddy?" Cameron asked, glancing back at him.

"Don't do this," Carl said, pleading. "Please, don't do this to us."

"Come on over here, this won't take long."

His arm slid off her shoulders. The girl reluctantly left his side. Tess sat down on the ground, keeping the gun readied in her right hand. Cameron took a few reluctant steps toward her.

"In my lap," she said, tapping her dress with her free hand. Cameron glanced back before taking a seat. Tess wrapped her arms around her and pressed her cheek against the little girl's beautiful hair.

"Just answer truthfully, Cameron, good girls always tell the truth."

"Okay," she said.

"When was the last time you saw your daddy?"

"He was watching TV," she said, her eyes cast to the floor. Carl clutched the metal tighter, wanting to move, to do something, but between his leg and the gun there was nothing he could do.

"Are you sure? You ran away, didn't you? Why did you run away?"

"Daddy wasn't being himself. I didn't want him to hurt me."

"I'd never hurt you, baby," Carl said. Tess glared him silent.

"Is that why you ran away?" She nodded. "Where did you go?"

"I ran into the woods," Cameron said. "Bobby at school told me Unicorns live in the woods, and if I tried hard enough I could find them."

Tess giggled.

"What did you find in the woods?"

The little girl squirmed. When she said nothing Tess prodded her again.

"I didn't find anything. It started raining. I don't think the Unicorns liked the rain."

Tess shifted the guns aim higher, toward Carl's head. She spoke, asking questions that the little girl answered with soft nods of her head.

"You tried to get out of the rain, right? But there was nowhere to go. It was raining really hard. You found a river, didn't you? But it was large and scary and moving fast…"

"I didn't want to jump in," Cameron said, tears sliding down her cheeks. Carl's grip on the metal was deathly strong. His eyes were locked on his daughter's. He kept shaking his head, pleading his girl to be silent.

"Why'd you jump in?" Tess asked.

"Daddy was screaming," she said. "He sounded mad. Really mad."

"What happened? Tell me, I won't be mad."

"I couldn't find her in the storm," Carl said, stealing Tess's attention away from the girl. "I looked and looked, but I never found her. It wasn't my fault."

Cameron only gave him the most hurt of looks.

"You did too, daddy, you did too find me!" She buried her face in Tess's chest. Tess wrapped her arm around her, smiling at Carl with a twisted smile.

"He found you at the river," Tess said, cold hatred burning in her eyes. "He found you and you called out to him. Why didn't you go to your daughter, Carl? Why?"

But Carl's sight was far away, despite his eyes staring into Cameron's face. He could feel the rain beating down upon him. Flood warnings had been issued for every county for miles. He remembered coming back from the woods, soaked in mud. He remembered screaming his daughter's name. But the river….the river…what happened at the river…?

v..v..v..v..v..v...

"Cameron! Where the hell are you, it's dangerous out here!"

He rushed through the trees, wincing as the branches tore at his skin. He could hear his daughter shouting something in the distance, although he didn't know what it was she said. Despite the horrible downpour no thunder sounded, giving him a slight hope of following her voice. The noise of the rain though…he'd never heard rain so loud. The drops were the size of marbles and falling so thick everything in front of him was a wall of liquid.

"Cameron! Keep yelling honey, I'll find you."

He stumbled across a falling log, scraping his knee. Blood dripped down his leg. He swore. He felt like a cold wet dog, and about as clumsy and smart as one as well. Damn it, why did she have to run out after he'd settled in for a drink in the warm house?

A loud, constant roar neared his position. His gut sank at the sound. He knew what it was. What he feared it to be. The trees ended. He broke into a tiny clearing just before a rocky creek. Except it no longer was a creek. The sudden rain had strengthened it into some roaring beast through the forest. And standing just beyond the reach of that beast was Cameron. Her back was to the creek. She looked at him, clutching a stuffed bear.

"I'm sorry," she said, her face pink and scrunched. She was crying.

"It's okay," he said, his eyes constantly flicking to the water running behind her. The falling rain rippled the top of the water as if a thousand bugs were skimming and diving across it. He felt a shiver crawl up and down his spine, again and again whispering certain death should he fall in. "It's okay, just come to daddy."

"You're mad," she said. "You're mad and you'll hurt me. I don't want you to hurt me anymore, please, I don't want you, you, please daddy…"

"Cameron, I'm not mad," he said, doing his best to keep his breathing calm.

"Please, don't be mad at me."

A sudden gust of wind pelted rain against Carl's back. The burst nearly toppled Cameron into the water.

"I'm not mad!" he shouted. "Now get over here, now!"

His scream dropped her to her knees. She cried there, so close to the creek, so close that it could reach out and grab him if he neared.

"Cameron," he said. "Cameron, stand up. Stand up and come to your father this instant!"

She stood to do as she was told. Another gust of wind came, one that Carl had to plant a foot forward to keep himself erect. Cameron lacked the strength to steady herself. She staggered back, crying out one last time before she fell into the water.

"Cameron!"

Carl ran to edge of the creek, his heart pounding. The entire creek was a mass of brown, just a step above mud. There, floating downstream, he could see Cameron. She was screaming. Her arms were reached out toward him. Carl took a step. He meant to jump in. He truly did. But the creek was roaring, the rain was howling, and when he glanced down into the water he knew, he just knew, he would die.

He ran. And he drank. And he forgot.

v..v..v..v..v..v...

"You're remembering, aren't you?" Tess asked. Carl leaned his entire weight against the shelf, his eyes blinking as if returning from a daydream.

"Remembering what?" he said. It was a horrible lie.

"I know what you saw," she said. Twin tears trailed down her face. "Your poor girl. You let her die, just because you were a pathetic drunk scared of the water."

"She's not dead," Carl said, his eyes closed and his face pressed against his forearm. That horrific image, of his daughter's hand reaching out to him from beneath the muddy water, refused to fade. "You were just talking to her. She lived somehow, maybe the river carried her here."

"She's not here, Carl. She never was."

Carl pulled back his head and opened his eyes. Cameron was gone. Tess sat alone on the floor, the gun cradled in her lap.

"What'd you do with her?" he asked. "Damn it, where is she?"

"She's washed up against ground somewhere down the creek," Tess said, venom dripping into her voice. "Frozen solid with water in her lungs. Bugs are in her eyes. Even the carrion dogs don't want her corpse. They left it all to the bugs and the beetles and the worms."

"Stop saying that you sick bitch!"

Tess giggled.

"This town called her spirit here, just as it called you and I. It called you to make you aware of what you did. It called me to…" She stopped, covering her mouth so keep in her giggles. "I think it called me to kill you," Tess said at last. She picked up the gun again and pointed at his chest.

"Don't do this," Carl said. He hobbled back on one leg. "It's this town, this place. I've never hurt you. I'd never hurt my daughter. Never!"

The girl stood and clutched the gun in both hands.

"I was wrong," Tess said, all emotion draining from her face. Not a shred of humanity remained in her voice. "You are just as bad as daddy was."

She shot him in the leg. His good leg. Carl fell to the ground, clutching the wound. He kicked with his other leg, succeeding only in tearing open the wound. Blood poured across the linoleum floor. Tess approached, the gun swinging casually in her hands.

"I never meant to," Carl whimpered, tears running down his face.

"You never do," she said. "But they always happen. You never meant to touch her. But you always did. You never meant to drink. But you always did. You never meant to die…"

The gun fired.

v..v..v..v..v..v...

Consciousness faded in and out like the ocean's tide. When he was awake he was aware of pain, enormous and without location. He might have opened his eyes once. He wasn't sure. If he did, then the world was as dark as when he kept his lids shut. Come and go. Awake and not. He heard a noise once, long and droning. It passed and then the pain grew.

Something was forced down his throat. It lodged halfway down. He coughed again and again, but gentle hands rubbed across his neck. The object remained swallowed.

Gradually he became aware of the pain as a more specific entity. His entire lower body was hurting. Water splashed across his face. Another object entered his throat, followed by cold liquid. He slept some more.

v..v..v..v..v..v...

When the pain was exact, and he was aware of his body, he heard the girl's voice amid the darkness.

"About time you woke up," he heard her giggle. "I've given you plenty of pain killers. You should stay awake, just enough to hear me. I've taken your eyes. You don't need them. Cameron will sleep better now, I think. And you will too. Stay still for me, like a good little boy, alright?"

He struggled, becoming more and more aware of his surroundings. He was sitting in a chair. His hands were bound behind him. He tried moving his legs but they too were tied. Not that it mattered. Pain shrieked up both of them, rendering them useless. He tried remembering what had happened. The gun had fired. The sound…the sound was enormous. The pain just hit him, seeming a strange unreal thing. She shot him in the stomach, he remembered that. She shot him and then let him bleed himself unconscious. And then the pain and the sleep. And now this. Tied.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Let me go," he whispered. His voice was cracked and weak. "Please, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He heard her giggle. The sound echoed in the dark.

"I know."

A sharp sting pierced the left side of his mouth. Adrenaline surged throughout his body when he realized what that stinging was. He tried to scream. Fingers gripped his lips and stretched him. The grip was tremendous. Another sting, this through his upper lip. He felt his lips tighten. He struggled again, but his strength was that of a child. The stinging traveled its away across his mouth until his lips were sewn completely shut.

He felt soft lips kiss his sewn mouth.

"The town is going to let me leave. I might come back, though. There are plenty of people like you, like daddy."

Far away a siren sounded.

"Good luck," she whispered into his ear. Carl tried to scream. He produced nothing more than a shuddering groan from the center of his throat. There was no response. All was silent in the store.

Silent.

And then he heard the scraping sound of something heavy and sharp dragging across the floor. It was coming his way.

v..v..v..v..v..v...

v..v..v..v..v..v...

And that's it. Thanks to any who made it this far. I hope you enjoyed my (strange) little story. Feel free to throw in comments, tell me I rock or tell me I suck. It's all good.

David.


End file.
